Eden
by Aki Midori
Summary: [Flight] 'I'm not a brat, Sendoh.' Rukawa was onto him so fast, Sendoh didn't even have time to blink.
1. Anywhere

**Anywhere  
**by aki midori

Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Severe cursing; a very different Sendoh  
Pairing: duh?  
diScLAiMeRS: Slam Dunk and its characters, most specifically Sendoh and Rukawa are property of Inoue Takehiko. I'm just borrowing them for the sheer pleasure of seeing them _love_.

Notes: Written a quite some time ago. Posted at 101kisses: A theme-based LJ Community. Theme #55 - Impulse

Blah: Er… I'm back?

-----------

_We're leaving here tonight  
__There's no need to tell anyone  
__They'd only hold us down  
__So by the morning light,  
__we'll__ be halfway to anywhere--  
__where__ no one needs a reason._

_-Anywhere. Evanescence_

-------------

"Excuse me? Could you... run me by that again? I wasn't sure if I heard it right."

"Your father didn't make it, Sendoh-kun. I'm sorry."

Oh.

"Again."

The doctor blinked. "Uh... your father didn't make it. It was already his third stroke."

I blinked back. Two can play this blinking game. "So you mean to say that my father's dead?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." No, you're not.

And that was that.

My dad's dead. I'm all alone, in that big mausoleum of a house, with no one and nothing but my lonely, poor self. And my basketball, of course.

My dad's dead... what a joke. Somehow, I'm getting the idea that everything is a goddamn joke.

My dad's dead.

My dad's dead.

"That is the strangest reaction I've ever gotten from a person who just lost somebody."

No need to whisper, mister. I can hear you perfectly fine.

My dad's dead, he says.

My dad... he's dead.

I was waiting for the powerful impact of pain-- the kind that would stealthily, but significantly blow inside a person's heart, and would start to creep all over his body, until he couldn't take it anymore and knock him off his sorry feet.

It never came.

There was nothing. Nothing at all.

"It was as if he never cared at all."

Yeah, well, fuck you, too, Miss Nurse. You have no idea how much this hurts. You have no idea how painful it is to watch the people you love die, one by one. You have no idea how many times I've sat on these stupid, sterile, white benches, as I wait for those stupid, uncaring doctors, hoping against hope that they would say something other than a measly 'I'm sorry, Sendoh-kun.'

I've sat and waited too many times, Miss. I've sat and waited like a good boy, twiddling my thumbs like a goddamn retard, as time slowly passed by, all the while praying to all the gods that the goddamn doctor would say something other than 'I'm sorry.'

I've sat, and I've waited-- and each time the doctor would come out of that hellhole they call an Emergency Room, I would stand up, look at them in the eye, and listen to them deliver the words that would somehow break what's left of my tattered heart, and take a piece of my tired soul.

The gods never listen to my pleas.

It's always the same damned thing, every damned time. It's like an overplayed scene in a bullshit drama soap, where the lines never change.

_/I'm sorry, Sendoh-kun./_

And I, the protagonist of this whacked-up soap, was expected to drop my head in sorrow and allow tears to fall silently from my eyes. I was to cry in pained dignity, and the doctor would come to me and pat my back, and I was to give a pained, sorrowful smile, and say,

_/I would be alright, doctor. Thank you for everything./_

Well, screw you all.

You can look at me, and criticize me all you want, you stupid fuckwads, but I'm not going to bawl over and cry like a deballed baloney. I've been through this too many times before. I've no more tears left to cry.

You have no idea.

You have no right to judge me, woman, because you don't even know half of what I've been through.

"Sendoh!"

Oh, lookie here. The cavalry arrived, probably to render their condolences and sympathies. Fucking great. Hot-off-the-oven sympathy and boo-boo sad eyes; just what I fucking need. Another batch of half-assed wishes, coming from a bunch of men who thought they knew everything about me.

"Sendoh, I came as soon as I heard the news," Friend Number One said, his eyes full of meaningless sorrow. "I'm sorry about your dad."

My script says I have to smile sadly. So I did. Script also says I have to say, "It's ok, Koshino-kun. Thank you for your concern." So I did.

Fucking lame script.

I didn't know what the others were saying, nor did I care. Why should I? What do they know, anyway? I'll just be wasting my time here, dealing with people who don't even know what the real meaning of 'sorrow' and 'pain' is. They know nothing about me.

Fucking absolutely nothing.

It's fucking annoying, all those sympathetic looks and 'I'm sorry's'. It's fucking strangling me, closing in on me until it gets too hard to breathe. I want to go away from this hypocrisy, from this empty, half-assed group of people who don't even know what the fucking hell they were talking about. I'm sorry, they say. I'm so goddamn sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Sendoh-kun.

Well, screw. I'm sorry, too, you know. Sorrier than all you bunch of ignorant people. I'm sorry it fucking hurts so damn much, I don't even feel a thing anymore. I'm sorry...

I'm sorry I lost the last person who ever knew me, and loved me for all that I am, and all that I'm not.

I'm sorry I lost the person who first handed me an orange ball that would in the future be my passion and my life, until fame and popularity stole its essence from me.

I'm sorry I lost the person who stood by my side all throughout my life; the person who patted my back when everything gets too damn tough; the person who smiled at me with wrinkled eyes when all I want to do is drop my own smile and succumb to sorrow.

I'm sorry I lost the person who I laugh with every morning, who I talk with every night.

I'm sorry I lost the person who tucks me in at night, in all my goddamn nineteen years, never minding much that his little boy is a full-grown man whose height would make him look like one of the seven retard dwarves.

I'm sorry I lost my best friend.

I'm sorry I lost my dad.

Yes, I'm fucking sorry I lo-

Clothes rustled as some brave -- stupid-- idiot dared to actually sit beside me, interrupting my sorry train of thought. Script says I should just bow my head low and wait for his -- whoever he is-- comforting hand on my shoulder. I sat and waited for a damn long time, but the hand never came.

So. This guy did not follow the universal script.

He was just sitting right beside me; close yet distant. Present, yet not overwhelming. He was just... there. Someone who did not follow the fucked-up script of this shit-drama called life. Comforting, yet not persistent. A redeeming entity amidst the otherwise unredeemable world.

Rukawa Kaede.

"Get up."

Eh? You have no right to tell me what to do, mister. You're not the boss of me, Rukawa Kaede, no matter how...

No matter how much your quiet presence calmed me down.

"I said get up."

"What?"

"You don't understand human language?"

"I do understand, thank you very much."

"Then get up."

"Why should I?"

"I'm taking you out of here."

That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard all day, if not my entire life. What the hell am I, a Juliet who needed to be whisked away by a dashing, debonaire Romeo? I mean, hello! I'm an able, competent, and confident young man. I certainly don't need anyone to 'take me away'. And besides, I have things I need to do here. I need to deal with all these people, all these burial, mourning stuff. I'm supposed to be mourning the loss of my best friend, my dad, not dilly-dally with the most unsocial man on the Eastern hemisphere! There are so many things I needed to do, no matter how much it sickens the hell out of me. Stupid script says I have to play the perfect role of the poor, unfortunate son who lost his only family.

_/I'm taking you out of here./_

That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard all day, if not my entire life. Take me away, he said. How much more stupid could he get? Don't this man understand? I have things to --

Well, damn.

I'm getting sucked into this drama. Who the hell said I have to follow the script? I'm sick and tired of it, and I don't want to play the role anymore, thank you very much.

_/I'm taking you out of here./_

That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard all day, if not my entire life. The most ridiculous, but it felt as if it actually saved me from all this bullshit. Yet, there's one thing I need to know.

"Why?" My demand was clear; it needed an answer.

He gave me one of his steel-edged glares, but underneath, I swear I saw a spark of warmth. A spark of humanity. A spark of truth. A spark of a human soul, somewhat resembling mine.

"Why?" I have to ask again, bolder, more demanding this time, though I could read his answer in the depths of his steel cobalt eyes.

"It's stifling."

"What is?"

"The script."

Well, shit.

He stood up, glared me down one more time, and traversed the white halls of the hospital, moving towards the wide double doors. Beyond the double doors, I see color; a change from the sterile blandness of this hellhole. The blue of the sky, the green of the bushes, the orange and pink and yellow of the flowers, the brown of the birds... everything.

It made me think, then...

There must be something other than this white insanity.

Something other than this pack of people who know claim they know everything about me, but who don't look past the man they labeled as their strongest, most reliable savior.

There must be some people other than these 'friends' who would see in me only what they wanted to see.

Down the sterile white halls, by the double doors, stood Rukawa Kaede. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his blue jacket, his eyes fixed on the outside scenery. Silent as ever, yet standing with quiet grace and dignity.

Next thing I know, I stood side by side the man I call my greatest rival. "Where to?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Anywhere."

"Sounds good to me."

End. –Beginning – Heh

Postnotes and you don't have to read:

Right. What have I gotten myself into? Senior year? Man, it was like getting caught up in a hurricane, and you don't know when the spinning would stop. Gundam Wing has been with me throughout the mad road trip, and yeah, SenRuSen would never, ever be left out in the dark.

So guys. I apologize for the delay of Celibacy. I promise we'll get to that soon. But uh, would you guys mind going over to my bio for a few announcements and such? I'm also grabbing this opportunity to invite everybody to please join up the SenRuSen celebration by interacting at **mw interactive**. It's an LJ Community. Hehe. That's it for now, bai-bai!


	2. Flight

**Eden **  
by Aki Midori 

**diSCLaiMerS**: Names mentioned below are property of Inoue Takehiko, et al. No profit shall be made, just mindless pleasure derived from seeing Sendoh and Rukawa love.

**Warnings**: Hints of shounen ai  
**Rating:** PG

Written for 101kisses; Theme Numbers 11. The endless and faraway sky, 43: Blade of Grass and 95. Warmness on the soul

**Flight  
**_Second Input to the Eden Arc_

His bed is the earth - warm on his back, spread with slightly uncomfortable green sheets that slightly poke at his skin through the thin material of his blue shirt. The wind is his lover, enfolding him in her sweet embrace, kissing and caressing him all over, chasing away threats of the sun's sharp glares.

He could feel a presence near him, warm, like a silent, steady campfire on a cold mountain-1-. It never once moved from its prone position in the grass bed, uncaring of any possible disruption that could rouse him from his beloved slumber. Sendoh smiled. How like Rukawa to just close his eyes and let himself be lured in by the sweet promises of sleep.

It was thanks to this sleeping man that the death of his father a few weeks back has been tolerable, at most. He remembered how Rukawa, face carved in stone, literally swept him away from the white insanity that almost succeeded in eating him alive. The man was as domineering as he is on court; arrogant, almost a little too full of himself.

_"I'm taking you out of here,"_ Rukawa said then, and took him away, he did. They drove for hours at end on Rukawa's 'borrowed' jeep, mindless of any destination. No words have been spoken, no explanations given, save for the one Rukawa uttered before they fleed.

_"It's stifling... the script."_

It was amazing, how this man whom he haven't really have any associations with, save for basketball, could understand what went on inside him that day. It was as if he saw the turbulent hurricane inside Sendoh, went straight into its center, and called a stop to it, like a comandeering god. Sendoh still couldn't believe his decision to leave everything like that, but he hadn't regretted it. This place was far better than the one he left behind.

"Are you quite done mapping your life yet?" Rukawa suddenly said, voice groggy from sleep.

"Ah, but I'm not mapping my life, Rukawa-kun," Sendoh replied, shifting so he could see the rumpled man not far from where he himself lay.

"Hn."

"Just hn?" Sendoh teased. "You're not going to ask why I dragged you here?"

"No." Rukawa scowled and closed his eyes again, determined to go back to his slumber. "Wake me up when you're ready to go." Just that, and he went back to sleep. The wind picked up and pushed the fluffy clouds, hiding the afternoon sun for a few moments. Sendoh shifted his gaze from Rukawa's form to the boundless sky.

It seems as if there's no end to it at all. It stretched out farther than Sendoh's eyes could reach, a hanging piece of cloth looming over the fields, over the hills, beyond the mountains. Mounds of clouds leisurely rolled by, like lovers walking down the park. White atop the blue; blue over the expanse of green and brown and all other colors of the earth.

Sendoh sighed. Lately, all he could ever do is to lie down and contemplate. His father's death rocked the very foundation of his life. He was pulled out of his safety zone, thrown into a world outside his father's smile, and made him face a world much larger than his father's warm hand.

He shifted, and felt something prickle his hand. Realizing that it was but a blade of grass, he plucked it from its bed of earth and held it over him. It was no bigger than his thumb, its width marginally thinner than his pinky finger. It was as green as freshly sprouted leaves after a long winter break, and its end is as pointed as a knight's sword. So small, compared to the vastness of the blue sky; an insignificant blade of grass, a little dot held over a sheet larger than life itself.

Sendoh, without the security of his father, felt like that blade of grass.

"Rukawa-kun?" he couldn't help but call out. "You awake still?"

"I am now," Rukawa grumbled.

Unfazed, Sendoh kept studying his new acquisition. "Don't you feel insignificant at all, when you look up at the sky?"

"No," Rukawa tersely said, narrow blue eyes catching some of sun's filtered rays.

"Do you ever look up at the sky at all?" Sendoh asked, forging anything that resembled a decent conversation. The man's making it difficult with his one-liners.

"Always."

"Then what do you feel when you look at it?" Sendoh inquired. "It's so huge, and wide. I feel as if it's going to swallow me whole, if I don't plant my feet firmly enough on the ground. I feel as if I'm going to be blown away any moment now."

"Why?" Rukawa asked, attention now focused on Sendoh.

"I dunno." Sendoh shrugged and waved the blade of grass a bit, making it dance in the wind. "Maybe because I've lost that one thing that kept me grounded."

"What is it?"

"My father's smile," Sendoh said in a near whisper. "It was the only constant thing in my life, you know? He was always smiling, even when there's nothing to smile about, even if things are tough. It helped me move on, you know? It was my strength. It pushed me to be better, every damn time, just so that smile wouldn't ever leave his face."

"He's just like you, then," Rukawa remarked. Sendoh raised an eyebrow at his companion's statement. "You smile all the time too. It irritates me sometimes."

Sendoh couldn't help but laugh - a surprising thing, since there weren't really any reason to laugh nowadays. He fought the urge to laugh harder at Rukawa's petulant pout. He looked like a kid robbed of his cherry tootsie pop, and Sendoh wanted nothing more than to ruffle Rukawa's wild locks.

"I'm glad that I could be of an amusement to you," Rukawa huffed, rolling over to his other side, facing away from Sendoh.

"Sorry, Rukawa-kun," Sendoh said, eyes still full of mirth. "You looked so cute then."

"Aho."

"Come on, now, Rukawa-kun," cajoled Sendoh, "Don't be such a brat."

"I'm not a brat."

"Yes, you are," Sendoh declared happily. "Look at you, pouting like a petulant kid because I was-"

"I'm not a brat, Sendoh." Rukawa was onto him so fast, he didn't even have time to blink. Sendoh's sky was suddenly obscured by Rukawa's scowling face, eyes a pair of blazing deep blue.

_'Midnight,'_ Sendoh suddenly thought. _'Rukawa's eyes are the color of the midnight sky.'_

"Take it back, Sendoh." Rukawa's breath is a soft midnight breeze kissing his mouth.

"Take what back?"

"I'm not a brat," Rukawa repeated. "Take that back."

Sendoh laughed again, then, causing Rukawa to pout even more. "Sure," he gasped. "Sure. You're not a brat, Rukawa-kun. You can stop thinking of ways to kill me now."

"Aho," Rukawa muttered, rolling once again into the grass. Sendoh hid another snicker before cajoling Rukawa into a conversation again.

"I'm like my dad?" he asked.

"You said he smiled all the time. You do that too," Rukawa said, back still facing Sendoh.

"Now I wonder," Sendoh whispered, fingers running over his blade of grass.

"You still do, even if you don't have to," Rukawa remarked. "You still smile, even if you shouldn't. It's irritating."

"Why is it?"

"It's like a lie." Rukawa turned over and stared at Sendoh. "I hate lies."

"It's not a lie, Rukawa-kun," Sendoh softly said, words wafting in the passing breeze. "I don't even have to think about it. It just happens. Some sort of automatic response."

"Because it's what people wanted to see," Rukawa stated. "And because you don't want people to see that screwed up part of yourself. The one that almost got out of your carefully molded mask, that day when your father died."

Rukawa is nothing, if not brutally honest. Sendoh found it refreshing to be with someone so honest, someone who wouldn't bother hiding his thoughts or feelings. Rukawa is a crystal glass reflecting sharp colors of the sun amidst a murky lake.

"My father was my reality," Sendoh said instead. "His smile, though not true and honest at times, makes everything all right for me."

"And your smile?"

"It was just there."

"Even if it didn't have to be."

"It has to be there, Rukawa-kun," Sendoh whispered, eyes glazing as he stared at the sky again. "It has to be there, all the more now, because my father's smile is gone."

"You're trying to bring back what's already gone, Sendoh," Rukawa said. "You can't do that."

"I know. But I'll try."

"Then the sky will indeed eat you alive," Rukawa said, eyes lifting up to the sky as well. "You can't hold onto something that's not there. It's as simple as that."

Rukawa's words hit home, and not for the first time that day. Sendoh turned the blade of grass over and over in front of him. He knew that if he let go, it will aimlessly float above its contemporaries, a wandering blade wafting toward nowhere while all other blades remain firmly rooted, holding onto the bosom of the earth. Poor blade. Uprooted. Plucked mercilessly from its safe haven.

He had the sudden impulse to apologize to the small blade of grass. It would still be grounded and safe, had he not pulled it from its place. A few moments from now, he knew that it will soon be nothing, if not a wanderer floating along with the vagrant wind, before it would be eventually swallowed by the vastness of the sky.

"You never answered me, you know," Sendoh said, breaking the silence.

"What's your question?"

"What do you feel when you look at the sky?"

There was a long pause as Rukawa breathed in the sight of the sky Sendoh was obsessing over. He took note of the white cotton candy clouds floating along the sea of endless blue. Sendoh was awed by the intensity of Rukawa's gaze, and for a moment, he recalled the short fraction of time where he himself was the recipient of that midnight stare.

Slowly, Rukawa's eyes reached out, as if trying to embrace an invisible lover. His face was free of its stoic expression, as if the carved stone melted into the soft contours of a young god's face. The wind, pleased, ruffled Rukawa's soft hair, kissed Rukawa's lips and embraced him.

"It makes me want to fly."

Sendoh felt something in his chest constrict, thinking of how painful it would be if the image before him is an illusion that would be gone as soon as he touched it. He had never seen anything as beautiful as what was witnessing: Rukawa, arms outstretched to forever, heart worn on his sleeves, embracing life and the entirety of the universe. He felt peace settling in his heart, anchoring him to something he couldn't quite place as of the moment.

All he knew is that his mind is cleared of its doubts, heart freed of its sorrow.

He run his fingers on the little blade of grass, and released it, allowing the wind to lift it further away from him. It danced as it floated, twisting and floating higher and higher, farther away, until Sendoh couldn't see it anymore. Sendoh smiled. It looked like the little blade of grass was flying.

"I don't want the sky to eat me," Sendoh whispered. He reached out his own hands and smiled. "But I want to fly, too."

Rukawa closed his eyes and smiled.

---end---

-1- My professor, a great poet, gave this description to me for my yearbook. I am the silent, steady campfire on a cold mountain, according to the remarkable woman, who is my professor.

Postnotes:

Yes. I'm doing it. Whoo-hoo! It's going somewhere! This'll be the second story of many more to come, all of which would chronicle Sendoh and Rukawa's day to day life. SenRu love gets to me too much. I'd also like to thank all of you who read and took time to comment on my Anywhere. It especially warms me to wake up one morning, and find myself reading a review via SMS. You know who you are. To all others, your words are just as warming and appreciated.

Thank you all. Till the next story!


End file.
